


A Handful of Possibilities

by Tromper



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: C2E79, M/M, Mutual Manipulation, Only very minor ship stuff, Speculation, Spoilers, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tromper/pseuds/Tromper
Summary: Essek visits the Xhorhaus and is surprised to see the Mighty Nein back so soon. Caleb takes the opportunity to apologize.





	A Handful of Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am meant to be doing actual work, but I thought of this and whipped it up in a fit of procrastination.

When Jester opened the door, Essek tilted his head to one side, a little curious. She didn’t take the hint, plastering a smile across her face instead and stepping forward with her arms raised threateningly. He held up one hand to ward off the hug, and she, thankfully, took the hint, dropping her arms and turning to yell into the house, notifying both her friends and all their neighbours of his presence. There was some muffled alarm from inside, and then Beauregard joined Jester at the door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked, abrupt as ever.

He smiled a little to add to the suspicion she was badly hiding, then raised his eyebrows, just slightly, in subtle judgement.

“May I come in?” he asked.

His strategy worked as he had hoped it would; they were off balance, and so their sense of decorum kicked in. They ushered him inside to where their group had gathered around what looked like a cobbled-together meal. They all looked exhausted, startled by his appearance, and worried. Caleb stood, a moment after he swept in, and gave him a nod and slight wave of acknowledgement before making some slight excuses and retreating to his study. Essek followed his progress and idly rubbed his forearm where his movements would be hidden beneath his cloak. The other wizard, at least, seemed somewhat ashamed. 

“Well this is unexpected,” Fjord said, and Essek snapped his attention back to the remaining members of the den. “What brings you to our door, Essek?”

He kept his face impassive, but was cut off as he opened his mouth to explain.

“Yeah,” Beauregard interjected. “We only just got back. Didn’t think you wanted to spend time around us.”

There was a petulance, hardly hidden, that spoke of past rejections, and he made a mental note to add the development to his files.

“I was actually looking for Dairon,” he said, after waiting another beat to make it clear Beauregard had interrupted. “I had not expected you to be back from your jaunt so soon. I take it from your expressions that you met with some sort of failure?”

They nodded, shoulders drooping further.

“We were too late,” Jester said, in little more than a whisper.

Silence, then, fell in a weight across the room as Beauregard sat back down and they all looked generally miserable. While he still didn’t have the best idea of what they had been hunting, they had mentioned the Laughing Hand. Why they thought they could have succeeded where they had only lately failed baffled him. Especially when they had been so unsure of where they’d wanted to go in the first place.

“Do you know where Dairon is?” he asked politely, when it became clear that they were just going to ignore him in favour of wallowing in their defeat.

“Is Dairon even home?” Nott asked her friends, and there was a general shrugging and round of “I don’t know” from the rest of the group. Jester, taking some initiative, began calling out Dairon’s name loudly, and headed to the stairs. Beauregard, on the other hand, glared at him suspiciously.

“Do you know where Dairon is?” she asked, her accusation clear.

He composed a look of irritated disbelief to level back at her and left that as his answer. Fjord went after Jester, loudly asking her to use her Sending spell, and Nott, in rather classic goblin form, tucked back into the meal. Evidently, she’d sensibly decided that his visit had nothing to do with her. 

“Perhaps Dairon has been trying to find a stable with room for your horses?” he said to Beauregard, who had decided to crouch in her chair while he was looking away.

“I thought we gave those to you?” Caduceus asked.

The firbolg had his usual patiently confused expression, and Essek sighed quietly in defeat.

“I do not need empire horses. I do not need horses at all. I did what I could to politely decline the gift, and assumed you were still insisting out of a sense of politeness. I left them here, where Dairon could find them, and had a messenger sent to explain what had happened when I made it back,” he said, and could sense the cracks in his politeness. He took the most obvious way out. “I have some matters to discuss with Caleb, while you look for Dairon. Excuse me.”

He didn’t give them a chance to respond, gliding away to the familiar door into Caleb’s study. He knocked to be polite, but the crawling attention of the Den ran up his back, and so he took the first muffled sound he heard as permission to enter. 

A quick glance assured him that the room was largely the same as he’d last seen it. Caleb was seated at the table that served often enough as a desk, and he seemed surprised. Essek turned away to carefully close the door, and to give Caleb a chance to compose himself. His intrusion had been rude, forced, and probably unwelcome.

_It isn’t like I’m grabbing him_, a vindictive part of him thought. His arm remembered the pressure of his touch as the grip of ghostly fingers. He heard the scrape of a chair, Caleb standing in a rustle of fabric.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” he said quietly before turning to face Caleb who was looking in his direction quizzically. “I think they were going to try to give me the horses again.”

Caleb smiled a little, something fond in his eyes as he looked to the closed door.

“Ah, so this is a— a retreat?” Caleb asked, a charming lightness in his voice matched with understanding. He gestured to a chair. “Be welcome, my friend, they can be… a lot.”

Charming as he was, his words were carefully calculated, and Essek tried to keep the hardness he felt from showing on his face. Rather than brushing over his admission of weakness, Caleb had highlighted it. His offer of sanctuary was a gentle tipping of the scales. Essek considered, and let Caleb see that he was considering, before he moved forward to take the offered seat. It wasn’t about to tip the scales far. Caleb sat back down when Essek sank into the offered chair, and took a moment to close his book and tuck it back into his holster.

“I think I owe you an apology,” he said, before looking back up to Essek, all seriousness. “I did not mean to offend you, when I, ah, when I touched your arm. I am sorry.”

He seemed earnest. Essek gave him a chilly smile.

“You didn’t mean to offend?” he asked, letting his disbelief show.

Caleb merely looked alarmed and puzzled.

“I am sorry, my friend—”

“Your friend?”

“Ja, I do consider—”

“Do you often threaten your friends?” Essek bit out, slightly too loudly.

He gritted his teeth and composed himself. Caleb looked taken aback, his eyes flicking, and Essek waited and let him find his charming words again. 

“Threaten?” Caleb managed eventually, making it a question.

_Clever_, Essek thought. 

“Threaten,” he said, agreeing but not falling into the trap of explaining.

Nonetheless, he shifted a little so Caleb would know he was rubbing his forearm beneath his mantle. There was always the slight chance the human was truthfully baffled.

“I did not intend it to be a threat,” Caleb said, quietly. “I was, ah, trying to reassure…” he looked away, his cheeks flushing pink. “I’m sorry,” he said to the table.

_Oh_, Essek thought. 

He wasn’t sure what his face was doing, before he drew himself back behind his walls. 

“Surely,” he said, and then forced the gentleness out of his tone, “you must have understood my position?”

Caleb looked up at him again, then grimaced self-consciously and looked back at the table.

“I thought… I thought you were tired of our disarray and our demands. You have already done so much for us, and we keep— I do not even know how we can pay you back.” He looked back up his eyes troubled. “I do not have— we do not have many friends who are not… on the outside like us. You fit in, and we are… crazy and pester you.” Caleb stopped and sighed, looking away again. “We do understand your position, and I am sorry.”

Essek looked at him carefully, as Caleb shuffled, seeming embarrassed. The only thing he seemed to be hiding, and not very well, was his pride in his friends. His obvious flattery rang true. It fit with his attitudes.

_He was trained_, Essek thought, trying to quell the urge to blindly trust. He sat back and folded his arms.

“So, you didn’t understand my position at all?” he said, and Caleb blinked at him, seeming honestly baffled.

“No, it seems I do not,” the human said, sounding utterly truthful.

_He wields his honestly like a knife_, Essek realised. _He isn’t lying because he doesn’t need to. What does he want? _

“You went back to the Empire, to reconnect with old friends, and then you suddenly have pressing business in the Lotusden Greenwood that you need me to take you to. You urge haste, at all costs, and have wild stories about horrors reawakening. I take you to the place you said you wished to go, and then you change your story, and claim I need to Teleport you again. Do you see now?”

Caleb shook his head, though he seemed unsure, like he was starting to follow.

“You came from the Dwendalian Empire, and insisted I must transport you to a wild place, far from my home, and far from safety. And then, you insist I must spend more of my waning strength to take you deeper into the wood.” Caleb’s eyes had gone wide, clearly understanding Essek’s point. Essek went on, feeling a little angry at how oblivious he’d been. “I think I was within the bounds of reason to consider your touch a threat,” he bit out. “I think I was within reason to be concerned.”

“Why did you agree?” Caleb asked, when Essek paused to compose himself.

He laughed a little at the human’s question.

“I agreed because I wanted to test how far I could trust you, with your stories of monsters raised from the dead.”

“If we had meant to kill you?” 

“I left enough behind here, that you would have been executed as soon as you returned to Rosohna. And if you simply meant to capture me, then I would have had a chance to hear some of the Empire’s plans before my escape,” Essek replied, bitterness heavy on his tongue. “But mostly, I could not stand by and do nothing, given what you had said.”

Caleb looked away, silently, gently scratching at his arms. He seemed worried and a little lost.

“You convinced me of your honesty,” Essek said quietly, drawing his attention back. “And for all I am offended, I cannot blame you for the threat with such things at stake.”

Caleb frowned at him.

“You still think I was threatening you?” he asked, and Essek’s lips twitched at his wounded pride. “You think we would have hurt you if you had not agreed?”

“Of course.”

Caleb shook his head adamantly, loose hairs ruffling around his face and falling forward until he stopped and drew them back behind his ears.

“You are our friend, Essek,” he said, earnestly. “We are not going to— to just beat you.” He barked a laugh of disbelief. “As if we could, but no. You are our friend. We aren’t going to just attack you if you do not agree to do what we say.”

“And you wanted to reassure me of that fact by grabbing my forearm and making sure I knew your strength,” Essek said, dryly.

Caleb scoffed at that.

“I am not strong,” he said. “I am weak as can be.”

Essek shook his head, and let his grin steal out, the weight of Caleb’s betrayal lifting in the face of his honest bafflement. _They are still dangerous_, whispered his sensible side. He reached his hand out and curled it around Caleb’s arm.

“I think you’ll find I’m the weak wizard here,” he said, giving a squeeze.

_Another admission of weakness, what are you doing, Essek? _ he thought, even as Caleb looked at him with very nearly the same expression as when he was offered a new spell. Warmth curled under his ribs as he withdrew his hand after another few moments. _Admittedly, a less risky way to get him to look like that. _

After another beat, Caleb refocused.

“I don’t think that you are weak, Essek,” he said, shuffling a bit. “Your magic, especially, leaves mine in the dirt. I could not figure out how to get into the Empire without a circle, and so we spent the past weeks traveling to Zadash from Nicodranas.”

His smile was a little shy to be truthful, but Essek could guess at why. Caleb was, he’d found, consistent in his submissive approach to manipulation. Always flattering, always talking himself down, but underneath was a mind that understood the give and take. Essek leant on the table, chin in hand, and let his gaze trail across Caleb’s face and rest on the human’s lips.

“Tell me about your travels,” he murmured.

Caleb’s smile grew faintly before dropping away as he began to recount the details of the Mighty Nein’s journey in the Empire. Essek asked the occasional question, but for the most part, Caleb’s only flaw was a tendency to over-explain the details. 

As he finished, sometime later, with an abashed shrug, Essek let out the laugh he’d been suppressing since Caleb mentioned that they’d taken their horses into the Zadash Archive.

“How many libraries are you banned from now?” he asked, when Caleb looked puzzled about his lack of composure.

Which was fair. Though, he did have to turn away to pull himself back together when Caleb held up his fingers in a silent, mournful tally. 

“And you would like to see our library? Caleb, you must know how this looks?” Essek said, when he’d pulled himself together.

“Ja, well, it isn’t really—”

“Your fault? Well, just know that Jester is preemptively banned from the Marble Tomes.”

Caleb nodded, and looked just about to say something, when a knock came at the door. 

“Dairon’s here, when you’re ready!” Beauregard yelled through the wood, and then there was further muffled yelling back and forth, and the door opened enough that Beauregard could look in and, in more normal tones, say: “Dairon’s here, waiting for you, and all.”

“Thank you,” Essek said, at about the same time that Caleb said the same.

Beauregard gave them a strange look, and slammed the door closed again.

“You wanted to see Dairon?” Caleb asked, his voice fading back into a more careful neutrality.

Essek raised his brows at him, amused, and was further amused when Caleb looked away.

“She is a spy, and I’m guessing she is allied with the Empire,” he said, and then waited for Caleb to enlighten him further.

He understood the give and take. He understood the debt. Essek was sure of it. Eventually, Caleb looked back up, his eyes full of calculation.

“She is allied to the Cobalt Soul, so, ja, close to the Empire, but she is looking for the links between the Cerberus Assembly and the Dens here. I think that is something you would like answers for as well,” he said, and Essek tilted his head in agreement.

“I suspected it might be something of the sort. She has something over your friend Beauregard?”

“Ja, she is, or was, Beau’s mentor. Beau respects her.”

Essek sat back and looked up at the ceiling, making a show of thinking. A small, but enthusiastic, part of himself wondered if Caleb was enjoying the view. He tarried a little longer than necessary, before sighing and looking back at Caleb.

“I think, perhaps, it will be better if I let your friends know what I know. But I cannot afford to have anyone else discover that I know she is a spy. Can I trust them to keep it a secret?” He asked, leaving his trust of Caleb implied, and was gratified by the other man’s slightly flustered look.

“They will do their best… but it might be less messy to tell them. What do you want Dairon for?” 

At least he was being honest about the shortcomings of his den.

“I have a few… interesting meetings coming up over the next few days, and I would like a scribe, who is versed enough in what to look for, to attend. And I thought it would be a good opportunity to see how astute this Dairon is.”

Caleb nodded, understanding.

“I will help to explain,” he said, another quiet offer to balance the scales a little.

And Essek nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how he could stand to trust so easily. Instead, he just nodded and pulled himself up out of his chair. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t trusting just as much in return. 

He let Caleb take the lead out of the room, and silently steeled himself to face the Mighty Nein again.


End file.
